


love disaster

by sventeen



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Angst, M/M, deletors are jealous exes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8048050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sventeen/pseuds/sventeen
Summary: a month in which ibuki is happy followed by many more in which he is not (aka the weird ibumamo angst fic nobody asked for)





	love disaster

**Author's Note:**

> this was written pretty early on in s1 of g, so please forgive any inaccuracies re: ibuki's plot involvement

Two years later, Ibuki Kouji still sees that crimson planet in his dreams.

‘We have been together all this time.’

It floats somewhere above him, imposing and close, too close, like blood on the skies.

‘Did you believe our bond could be shattered so easily?’

He feels them at his back, feels their tendrils coil at his ankles, feels their claws at his neck.

‘You can only remain just out of reach for so long. One day, you will return to us.’

Even when the dream is over, when he opens his eyes to nothing but the ceiling, their voices still linger in his mind.

'After all, you understand us– and we are the only ones who understand you.’

–

“Didn’t sleep well again?”

Ibuki glances over his cards at the man across the table. “How do you figure?”

“You’re a bit sluggish today. You know, they make medicine to help with that.”

“I’m aware,” Ibuki states flatly, finally starting his play.

“Don’t tell me you’re too stubborn to try it,” and from the outside, it’s impossible to tell that Anjou Mamoru’s little smile leaves a butterfly or two in the pit of Ibuki’s stomach.

They had first met during a tournament at Dragon Empire Branch, not even a month after Ibuki had finally returned to Japan. This concept of Clan Leaders was new, something that’d obviously happened while he was out and about, and here he had the chance to fight the one standing for Kagero.

Though a competent fighter, Anjou Mamoru barely held a candle to Kai Toshiki, Ibuki would quickly learn– then again, few people did.

His curiousity settled, Ibuki considered his business with Dragon Empire done.

Mamoru, however, had other plans.

“I’ve fought quite a few Link Joker players, but I’ve never come across one with a deck like yours. Is it alright if we talk for a bit?”

Over coffee, they discussed Vanguard. Mamoru laid Ibuki’s deck out on the table and looked it over many, many times.

“They don’t have any numbering,” he mused aloud, “are these cards promotional? Where did you get them?”

“They aren’t fake, if that’s what you’re implying,” Ibuki said in between sips.

Mamoru waved his hands. “Oh, no, not at all! GIRS recognized them, so I don’t doubt they’re genuine. I’ve just never seen them before.”

“I’m sure you’re aware of the Messiah Scramble tournament that took place two years ago. I received them there.”

Though it took a moment, Mamoru’s expression shifted from furrowed brows and eyes closed in thought to one of sudden understanding. “Ah! That was you, wasn’t it? You used a strange deck back then, too. You also seemed a lot, uh… rougher.” The chuckle that followed was beyond stilted.

“I had some issues. They’ve been taken care of.”

'How cold.’

By then, Ibuki had almost perfected the art of ignoring the voices intruding in the back of his brain.

“That’s good! We had an enjoyable fight, and you’ve been pleasant company, so I’d say it worked out. Speaking of the Scramble though, I never did see the finals. They were rescheduled because of an earthquake, right?” He gently tapped one of the copies of Alter-Ego Messiah fanned out before him. “I’m assuming you won, but was the footage ever actually released?”

“It wasn’t, and I didn’t win.”

“Oh?” Mamoru leaned in. “But weren’t these cards the grand prize? How did you get them?”

“My opponent thought I would make better use of them. To be honest, I’m still not sure if that’s true or not.”

Mamoru whistled. “Your opponent must have a lot of respect for you, then. Though I’ll admit I’ve got nothing for a proper comparison, you used this deck wonderfully against me, so I’d say that respect was well placed.” He smiled, small but warm. “I don’t say this to brag, but it isn’t every day someone defeats me.”

That smile gave Ibuki a feeling he couldn’t quite process. It was like anxiousness, but not so negative– like soft static, or like water just starting to boil.

It felt vaguely familiar, yet he couldn’t seem to place exactly when he’d experienced it. Truthfully, the memories of his life prior to two years ago were a blurry mess he still hadn’t managed to fully sort out. Untangling a life he only half-owned proved more difficult than he’d anticipated.

In the end, the feeling passed without a hitch, and Ibuki chose to ignore it.

The two of them talked well into the evening, of strategy and deckbuilds and recent fights. Mamoru punctuated the session with his phone number.

“You don’t mind if we meet again soon, do you? I’d like a rematch.”

Ibuki stared at him as though he’d suddenly started speaking another language, only nodding once he realized the growing concern on Mamoru’s face. It wasn’t really a situation he was used to. “That’s fine. I’d like to fight you again, too.”

They finished exchanging numbers, and Mamoru bid him farewell with that same warm smile, leaving him alone outside the cafe to contemplate the lightness in his chest.

They began to text.

Mamoru would send him pictures of good pulls, or cute dogs he saw while out and about, or the occasional bad selfie with the Dragon Empire Branch Chief.

Ibuki didn’t ever have much to send in return, but it never seemed to deter the other.

They traded videos of tournament footage, of decklists and game theory. Their conversations spanned days, going quiet when they were busy or had nothing to say, then picking back up as if there’d never been a lull at all.

They texted more than spoke face-to-face, as Mamoru always had something or other to do at Dragon Empire. Ibuki helped out a day or two, but the loud atmosphere tended to overwhelm.

“You know, if you’re uncomfortable, it’s fine if you go,” Mamoru assured him that second day, “I’ve got plenty of help.”

Ibuki shook his head. “It’s okay. I want to spend time with you.”

“I’m sure we can schedule something in a calmer place, though.”

That night, in fact, Mamoru took him to a home-y little sushi place, where they drank and played Vanguard. Mamoru had just a bit too much, and he clung to Ibuki as he walked him back to his place.

“Shorry…” Mamoru mumbled into Ibuki’s shirt, “didn’ mean to…”

“You’re all right. We lost track of time.”

“Mmmnn… thass funny…”

“Hm?”

Mamoru smiled. “Yer heart’s goin’ pree fast…”

Ibuki blinked, red creeping into his face. “It is.”

“Why??”

“I don’t know.”

“Huh… thass no good…”

“You should probably just focus on staying upright.”

Over the course of just a month, Ibuki came to find that Mamoru didn’t only have a warm smile– he was a warm person entirely, enough so that Ibuki often wondered if he even deserved the other’s company.

“Branch Chief asked where the gloomy guy went yesterday.”

Ibuki scratched his neck. “Am I gloomy?” Even as he asked it, his expression remained stern as ever.

Mamoru laughed sheepishly. “Ah… well, how do I put this… kind of? Er, not that there’s anything wrong with that! Honestly, if everyone in the world were as eccentric as the Branch Chief, that’d be pretty troublesome.”

“Huh. Well, if you think it’s fine, then I won’t start worrying about it now.”

“There’s certainly more important things to worry about, anyway. What I can tell you for sure is that you’re also kind, and straightforward, and down-to-earth. It’s best to embrace every part of yourself, right?”

The concept didn’t make much sense to Ibuki– his identity had been muddled from years of living with their claws in his heart, and he wasn’t sure if the person he was at that time was the person he was supposed to be, or a person even worthy of being accepted– but hearing it from Mamoru made him think it was okay for now.

Most of his life had been spent bitter and alone (well, alone, aside from them), and the two years since becoming (mostly) free of them, he’d done nothing but wander, never staying anywhere for long, never getting to know anybody.

Then, there was Anjou Mamoru– the first person in so, so long to get close, to want to be close.

It was foreign, something Ibuki wasn’t used to, wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to. There was definitely a learning curve, a realization that at times he wasn’t entirely sure how to speak or act with Mamoru (or much of anyone, really).

But it wasn’t scary– it was liberating.

Those two years spent wandering were an attempt to process things, a slow gathering of the pieces of himself. He had put them back together in a jumble, and though it was far from perfect, it at least gave him some idea of who he was, and what he wanted.

That one month, then, saw him swapping those pieces around, figuring things out little by little, becoming more sure of himself, even when the ones who broke him apart in the first place sought to keep him from it.

'Don’t get so attached,’ the voices hissed as he left the other’s doorstep one night, 'You know as well as we do that friendship will always escape you. Nobody will ever understand you but us. When he realizes how strong you truly are, he will grow jealous, and bitter, and he will leave, just like the others.’

Clenching his fists, the words just slipped from his mouth. “Shut up.”

'There is no reason to continue this pitiful display.’

Ibuki held his tongue, then, knowing how pointless it was to argue with them. In the end, they could say whatever they wanted. Even if they wound up being right, even if he couldn’t avoid pushing Mamoru away– he would at least enjoy the time they spent up until then.

“Here, come back to my place,” Mamoru suggests as they finish their fight. “You can have some medicine and chamomile to take back with you. Maybe you’ll actually sleep well tonight.”

Ibuki nods, and they head back to his apartment together.

As Mamoru busies himself in the kitchen, opening cabinets and digging around for the medicine he swears he has, Ibuki sits on the edge of his bed and waits patiently.

The apartment is small, but it’s cozy, and without a fight or anything else to focus on, he discovers just how exhausted he is. He has to stave off the urge to lay back and pass out right there, and thankfully Mamoru comes in just as he feels he might lose that battle.

“Are you sure you can make it home,” Mamoru asks, “you look like you’re about to fall asleep sitting there.”

“I’ll manage.”

Mamoru takes a seat next to him. “You can sleep here tonight, you know.”

Ibuki blinks. “Are you sure?”

“Mmhm.”

With a yawn, he starts off the bed. “I’ll take your couch, then.”

“Hey, wait–” and Mamoru reaches out to take Ibuki’s sleeve. “It’s fine. You can sleep in the bed.”

“And you’re supposed to sleep on the couch, then?”

“I was figuring we would share.”

The cogs in Ibuki’s brain grind to a halt. “… Share?”

“I mean, I don’t take up much room when I sleep, and you don’t seem like you would, either. I think the bed’s big enough.” He gives Ibuki that smile of his, and sleep-deprived, it really does a number on him.

Slowly, he sits back down. Mamoru hasn’t let go of him yet, and neither of them say anything about it.

His expression is stoney as ever, but there’s nothing but nerves firing under Ibuki’s skin.

“You know, it’s weird,” Mamoru muses, “we’ve only known each other for a month, but it feels like a lot longer… hah, well, to me, at least.”

“No. It does to me, too.” He shakes his head. “To be honest, I’m not really used to this. Having a friend.”

“Oh? But you play Vanguard. Surely, you’ve formed bonds that way, haven’t you?”

“I wish it had been that easy. Something got in the way, though. It was there for a long time.”

“Mm… is that related to the 'issues’ you mentioned having when we first met?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not going to tell me about it, are you?”

Ibuki’s silence is all the answer he needs.

“Well, it’s fine. Everyone has their secrets.” Mamoru’s hand moves just an inch or two, to rest atop Ibuki’s. “You can just work on catching up, now.”

Focused on where the other’s put his hand, Ibuki just barely catches his words. “Easier said than done.”

Mamoru chuckles. “I guess so. Everyone’s different, and some people are harder to connect with than others. Everyone has something to share, though, and the things you learn about others help you learn more about yourself, too. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.”

“Huh… I’ve learned a lot about myself from you, then.”

“You’ve taught me a thing or two, yourself,” Mamoru replies with a wink.

It’s such a corny, charming little thing, and…

“Ah! So you can smile!”

Ibuki hadn’t even noticed he’d done it. The lightness in his chest had just spread and leaked out before he could even catch it.

“I– Of course I can smile. You’ve seen me do it before.”

“Smirking when you’re about to win a cardfight doesn’t count,” he teases, prodding Ibuki’s cheek with a finger. “You should smile like this more often.”

“It’s not like I’ve been avoiding it.” The smile fades as fast as it’d appeared. “I just haven’t had many chances to do it lately,” and Mamoru isn’t even aware that Ibuki’s 'lately’ is a long, long time.

“That’s such a gloomy thing to say. You’re really living up to your persona like that.” Mamoru brings his hand to his chin. “But if you just need more chances, we’ll have to find some for you. Something like…” he leans in, oozing charm, “a kiss from a dashing young dragon knight?”

Ibuki stares at him, and he leans back, laughing nervously in response.

“Ah, it was just a–”

“Yeah.”

“… W-Wait, 'yeah?'”

Ibuki nods. “Every time I’m with you, I get this feeling like I want to be closer. I didn’t really know how to say it, though. If it isn’t the same for you, I don’t mind. I just feel like if I don’t tell you now, I won’t find another good place to do it.”

“Oh, no, I…”

They’re only there for a moment, but Mamoru’s lips are soft against Ibuki’s. When he draws back, it’s just enough so he can speak.

“Hey, it’s the same, so smile, okay?”

It’s a smile even wider than before, one he feels like he’s been waiting forever to make, and Mamoru mirrors it before leaning back in and gently pushing his weight against him.

Ibuki lays back, bringing Mamoru down with him and basking in the warmth that seeps into him, spreading and settling into every nook and cranny it can find. He’d become so used to living with a chill in his bones that he’d forgotten it was there at all until he feels it being driven out.

Their mouths meet again, and there’s a swelling in Ibuki’s chest to match the mixture of excitement and anxiety churning in his stomach. His heart is pounding against his ribs and there’s ants under his skin and about a million other things happening, too, all at once, and it’s overwhelming but it’s incredible– like he might overflow and burst open under the other, but without fear of it.

It’s… familiar. Strangely familiar.

Where has he felt this before?

He closes his eyes, and that crimson planet looms over him.

From the haze of his memories, he suddenly recalls all the pain he’d caused. He recalls the nights spent longing for revenge, for destruction. He recalls the moment when he was sure he would win, when he thought his hands would finally bring the end of everything.

They’re the same– the same, the same, the same–

He shoves Mamoru off and scrambles to sit up, hand flying to his mouth as he backs away.

'Ah.’

“W-What’s wrong…?” Mamoru asks quietly.

'We wondered if this would happen.’

“Did I do something…?” Mamoru makes to scoot towards him, but Ibuki’s eyes grow wide and he cries out _don’t, don’t._

'You see, our love is not like that of humans. Our love is obsessive, born of destruction and consumption and chaos.’

“S-Stop,” Ibuki murmurs.

'You have spent your life with us. For years, you grew under our influence.’

“S-Stop it…,” and tears well up, blurring his image of the other man watching him helplessly.

'It’s only natural, then, that you would inherit that love. For you, love and destruction are linked, just as they are for us. If you allow your love to grow, you will see it never stops– more and more, stronger and stronger, until the object of that love can do nothing more for you on their own.’

“Please… please…” and he curls in on himself, nothing but the frightened, lonely child he once was.

'You will want to take them into you. Their body, their mind, their heart, their soul… you will want all of it, you will need all of it. Existing separately alongside them will no longer be enough. But you are only human. We can assimilate anything we wish. You cannot. Unable to properly fulfill your love, there will remain only one other option to sate yourself.’

He feels Mamoru’s arms wrap around him.

'You will destroy them.’

“It’s okay. Can you hear me? It’s okay.”

'Do you see now? Do you finally understand? For you, who will destroy anyone who gets close, there is no place in this world– for you, there is only a place with us. We are the only ones who will stay.’

“Hey, look at me. It’s okay.”

'Now, return to us.’

He can practically feel them closing in, feel them weighing down on him, feel them grabbing at the back of his coat. When he finally moves, he intends to push the other away, away from him and them, yet finds his arms winding around him in turn, finds himself pressing up against his body. The sensation is grounding, and the echo of their presence gradually disappears.

Neither of them say anything. Mamoru rests his head on Ibuki’s.

“… Hey,” Ibuki finally mutters.

“Yes?”

“If I… if I did something stupid, like distance myself… would it be okay?”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“No. That’s why it’s stupid.”

“Well… if you were to do something like that, you’d know where to find me if you wanted to see me again.”

“… Thanks.”

Mamoru slowly pulls Ibuki down, until the two of them are laying curled up on the bed. “Of course.”

“I was happier this month than I think I’ve ever been.”

“That’s good. I’m sure the coming months will only be better.”

Hearing it from him is almost enough to convince Ibuki it’ll be true. “Yeah. I’m sure they will be.”

“Now get some sleep,” and the other doesn’t need to be told twice.

When Mamoru wakes up, Ibuki is gone. There’s a card sitting next to him, though, and he takes it and examines it through bleary eyes.

A Link Joker heal trigger, the kind Ibuki uses in his own deck.

Mamoru rubs the back of his head. “Is this your way of telling me not to worry?”

–

“I heard a rumour you became a coach at United Sanctuary Branch.”

“I did.”

Ibuki watches as Mamoru stirs a second creamer into his coffee. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in four months.

“That place is a little strict, isn’t it?”

Ibuki sets his mug on the table. “Not everyone equates getting stronger with partying all the time.”

“Oof,” Mamoru brings his hand up to his heart. “I like to think the two aren’t mutually exclusive, at least.” He then takes a sip of his own mug before teasing, “Anyway, maybe a gloomy place like that is good for a gloomy person like you.”

They chat about nothing in particular for a while, before Mamoru seems to remember something.

“Oh, right– you said you met a man a while back who used a clan called… mm, Gear Chronicle, was it?”

Ibuki perks up. “What about it?”

“At the shop my younger sister plays, there’s apparently a boy there who uses them, too. She says he’s a total beginner, though, and that he just happened to come across the cards one day.”

Ibuki narrows his eyes. “And his name?”

“Hmm… Shindou Chrono, I think? Though from the sounds of it, if you have questions for him, he probably won’t know much.”

“No, this is fine. Thanks.”

The server comes around with their bill, and Mamoru waves off Ibuki’s attempt to cover it, instead opening his own wallet.

As Mamoru rifles through it for the money, Ibuki catches a glimpse of a Vanguard card poking out. Lady Healer of the Torn World– he can tell what it is just by a sliver of the art.

After all, it’s the heal trigger he uses in his own deck.

His heart stirs for the first time since that day four months ago, and it makes him elated and nauseous all at once.

He stands up and slides out of the booth. “Thanks for getting the bill. I’d stay longer if I could, but they’ve been keeping me pretty busy at UniSan.”

“Oh, I know the feeling.” Mamoru gets up as well, reaching out and poking Ibuki’s cheek. “Let’s meet up again soon, alright?”

Even though their definitions of 'soon’ are probably far different, Ibuki still nods before taking his leave.

Mamoru waits until he’s long gone to remove the heal from his wallet and stare down at it. “I hope you’re doing alright…”

–

Two years later, Ibuki Kouji still sees that crimson planet in his dreams.

Two years and one month later, Ibuki Kouji realizes he is finally happy.

Two years and one month and several more later, Ibuki Kouji often wonders if they’re right after all, if happiness and understanding will always escape him– but when it gets particularly bad, he looks at the one heal trigger in his deck that isn’t like the rest, and things feel just a little more hopeful.


End file.
